What's An Adventurer To Do?
by Cookies Need Love
Summary: Future fic, I guess you would call it. Sam and Freddie moved in together, but then Sam disappeared, leaving behind only a note. It's fourteen years later and Freddie's stuck in a rut. What will happen? K, because I don't do smut. Sorry!
1. Prologue

**Hello, imaginary readers I've made up to make myself feel better! I am going to be writing a story. I know, ground breaking, right? Well, be quiet and listen, it gets better. Because I actually intend to finish this story! This amazing feat, however, cannot be accomplished without the help of you! Because in this wonderfully amazing prologue I've hidden references to several songs/TV shows/movies. The first person to review with one of the hidden references and where it's from will get to suggest something for my next chapter! And when I say first person, I mean the first person for that specific reference, so there's going to be a lot of chances. Again, amazing, I know. Anyway, the suggestion can be something you want to see happen in my story, or a word or phrase you want included. Even a completely different story you want me to do. Whatever. I will be doing this each chapter, so keep an eye out.** **Although, since I am super lazy, there aren't as many hidden references as I would've liked. As soon as I get more organized I'll add more in later chapters. To be super nice, most of them are in the letter. Okay, you can stop listening to me rambling now and read on! **

—

He opened the door with a grin, setting the briefcase on the little side table. There were only a few pictures there, a testament to the new life they were starting. One was of the day they'd moved in. She was standing, hair tied back, and a paintbrush in her hand, laughing at something he'd said. In the picture you could faintly see the glimmer of a golden band on her finger. It wasn't a wedding band, they'd never actually gotten married. She had been adamantly against the idea from the start. A big occasion with makeup and fancy dresses and love wasn't really her thing, although the cake had intrigued her slightly. Still, if it had just been that he probably could've convinced her, but it was more then that. It was the idea of being tied to someone, of being shackled to one person, even if she loved them, that she didn't like. She was wild and free, and it was why he loved her. He didn't dare clip her wings. But she had known he didn't really like it, so one day she'd gotten down on one knee and proposed- that they move in together. The matching rings signified a promise, the promise that they would love each other. "Until I go wild again, I'll be only yours," had been her exact phrasing. He'd laughed at that, but there'd been some truth to it.  
>He smiled at the memory, distracted from the silence of the apartment. But alarm bells were dragging him out of his daydreams, telling him something wasn't right. She should've greeted him by now, called him an idiot, and told him to go get ready for dinner. But it was quiet, too quiet for Sam Puckett. He moved cautiously through the living room, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn't until he peered into the kitchen that the thought that had been lingering in the back of his mind exploded into reality. On the counter there sat am envelope, his name scrawled on it in her messy, child like handwriting. A pit opened up at the bottom of his stomach as he slowly reached for it, slightly surprised at the weight. He slowly tore back the flap and a golden band fell into his hand. Slowly he drew out the piece of paper and read her goodbye.<p>

Dear Freddie,  
>I just want you to know I've never been closer to anyone or anything as I am to you. Before you I was alone, and I didn't really know what good love could do. I had Carly, of course, but you were different. You are my lover and a friend, and for you I would've done whatever. Did do whatever you wanted, except for marriage, and this is why. Because I knew one day I'd have to leave you and I wanted to make sure you were free, as free as I am. Because I can never stay still for too long, and you deserve someone who will stay with you forever. So please, don't forget me. If you have children some day, please tell them my name. Please tell them that I hope they shine. I will never forget you, I promise. I'm so sorry.<br>Sincerely,  
>Sam<p>

Freddie stared at the letters, not really comprehending them. She couldn't be gone, he refused to let her go. But the weight of the ring in his hand told him it was too late. She had gone and he was left here to watch her drift away. Numbly he called up Carly and Spencer, both of whom insisted that she would be back. But he knew better. She was one of them, an adventurer. It was her nature and he didn't blame her. After all, what's an adventurer to do?


	2. Surprise, Surprise

Well, well, well, here we are again! Me updating the only story I have to update faithfully. Well, not really faithfully... It has been a few weeks, I think. I'm really not sure. Whatever, I'm updating. Shut up...  
>Anyway, I know it's super short but I have a headache. Don't worry, invisible audience I've made up, they'll get longer once stuff starts happening, trust me.<br>-

"Well, Princess, I guess this is goodbye."  
>"Mom, why can't I just stay with you?"<br>"I'm sorry, Princess, but I'm not going to be able to look after you."  
>"You've done a great job so far."<br>"I love you, Princess. I'll call all the time, okay? Now go on up."  
>"Fine. Bye, mom. I love you."<p>

The door to the small apartment swung open, revealing a rather haggard-looking man in his mid-thirties. He set his briefcase on the side table, fourteen years of wear and tear evident in the scratches and stains. The apartment seemed cold, like it was abandoned. The once yellow walls were faded and peeling, the furniture dusty and worn. Freddie shuffled through the living room to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to reveal a styrofoam temple. Without bothering to check what it was, Freddie grabbed a container and moved back to the living room. It had a desk in one corner and an old TV facing a couch in another. Four doors opened off from it, one to the master bedroom, one to the bathroom, one to the kitchen, and one to another bedroom. Freddie glanced at the door to the smaller bedroom, his eyes darkening with memories.  
>They had been laying on the couch, a movie playing on the TV as he stroked her hair. She'd been half asleep, one of the rare times when she wasn't up and doing something. Now that he thought back on it, that probably hadn't been the best time to bring up the subject of children, but he'd gone ahead and mentioned it anyway. Her reaction had been to start so violently she had fallen off the couch, causing a couple minutes of confusion as she pummeled him for laughing. Then he'd brought up the children thing again, and she had seemed a little sad. She had admitted to wanting one, eventually. They'd name her Melissa and call her Mel. The walls in there were still a light blue, since Sam had been vehemently against her daughter growing up with pink. He hadn't opened that door since she'd left. It reminded him of the plans they'd made.<br>A small smile flitted across Freddie's face before he turned away from the image of Sam sitting on the floor, scowling up at him as he laughed on the couch. He grabbed his briefcase and settled down at his desk, bringing out the one new thing he owned. The laptop whirred to life, a familiar sound in the silent apartment. When she'd first gone he'd thrown himself into finishing school and then into getting a good job at Apple, designing new innovations. He'd focused all his attention on work and gotten promotion after promotion which had required more and more work out of him. Before he'd realized it fourteen years had passed, and he'd always stayed true. Never finding someone else, always just pretending she was there with him. Trying to forget her was a waste of time. Work had just been something to attempt to get her off his mind.  
>Carly was an actress and Spencer was still a semi-successful sculptor, both busy with their own things. Carly still called every once in a while, occasionally brought over food so he could get a break from takeout, but they weren't as close as they used to be. Carly had gone through all the normal stages of grief when Sam had left, but Freddie was stuck in denial and Carly had run out of ways to help him.<br>Shaking these thoughts away, Freddie looked back at his laptop. But it seemed the universe was against him getting any work done tonight as a knock came on the door just at that moment. Curious, Freddie stood. No one really visited him. He hadn't really gotten to know anyone in his apartment complex and it'd had been a couple weeks since he'd talked to Carly. Maybe she had gotten worried and was coming to check on him. Freddie swung the door open, revealing a teenager with a mass of curly blonde hair and brown eyes standing in the hallway. Freddie stood there for a moment, shock and confusion overwhelming him. What was a teenage girl doing outside his door at nine at night? Why did she look so reminiscent of... No, it was just a coincidence. She only had similar looking hair, nothing else. Freddie coughed once and shook his head before speaking. "Ah, hello there. What can I do for you?" The girl peered through the door, looking around the room. She had a rather bored expression on her face and a pear phone in her hand.  
>"This looks like the home for an eighty year old," she replied, furrowing her brow. She glanced at her phone, looking a little disappointed when there was nothing new. Freddie stared at her for a moment, wondering what exactly was going on.<br>"Thank you for appraising my home, but I have work to do, so if you don't need anything..." he trailed off suggestively, backing up a step in order to close the door. Instead of leaving, the girl followed him. Now she was standing just inside the apartment, still looking around curiously.  
>"Excuse me, what're you doing?" Freddie asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm. "Oh, right, I was supposed to say this first: hi, I'm Melissa, but call me Mel. I'm your daughter."<br>Freddie fainted. 


	3. Goodnight, Mel

Yay, another update. To all the people who have reviewed/favorited the story/put it on their alert list: thanks for thinking I'm an okay writer. Now, I'm being lazy today, but I'll try to make this chapter longer than the previous one. I'd thank you all individually but, as I said, I'm being lazy today.

"Mom, he fainted. Hey, stop laughing!"  
>"Oh, he was always such a wuss. Just go get a glass of water and splash it on him."<br>"Do I have to stay here? What if he doesn't want me?"  
>"Of course he'll want you, Princess. Who wouldn't want you?"<br>"Apparently you, for one."  
>"Princess, you know that's not why-"<br>"Yeah, I know. I'm gonna go wake him up now."  
>"I love you, Princess."<br>"Bye."

The next thing Freddie knew was a very, very cold cup of water had been emptied over his face. He awoke gasping and spluttering, temporarily forgetting about the new guest in his home. That is, until she handed him a towel. Slowly, Freddie took it and started to dry off his face, taking his time. He needed a moment to process this. He had a daughter, who looked remarkably like Sam, and she seemed to be around fourteen. So... Sam had been pregnant when she left? Was that why she left? No, she would've wanted her daughter to grow up in a normal home, with a stable family. But why hadn't she returned when she found out she was pregnant?  
>"You okay?" a slightly concerned voice asked. Freddie jumped, then winced as his head spun. A hand appeared in front of his face with a bottle of aspirin. "Thanks," Freddie said, slowly taking the bottle. He looked up from his position on the floor to see the vaguely amused face of... his daughter? He let out a groan and laid back on the floor. This could not be happening, not now. Not after fourteen years of trying to forget the woman who had left. "Hello? Are you all right?" Mel knelt next to him, clearly trying to hold back laughter. Freddie pushed himself back up to a sitting position and started to rub his temples. "Yeah, I'm fine... For now. So, uhhh, what was it you were saying before?" Freddie managed to get out, his mind straying back to the reason he had found himself splayed out on the floor. Immediately the humor left Mel's eyes and she sat back on her knees.<br>"Well, I'm assuming you heard me since you fainted and you're pretty smart, so you've already figured out who the mom is. What do you want me to say?" Mel asked, her voice getting hostile. Freddie held up his hands defensively, biting back a smile.  
>"Yeah, I figured it out. You're so much like her," Freddie replied, his eyes misting over with memories.<br>"Why do you still love her?" Mel asked, studying him curiously. It was obvious he was still in love with her mother, even after all this time. It had been fourteen years without a letter or a call, or even a postcard. Why was he still so hung up on the past? Freddie glanced at her, the question taking him by surprise.  
>"I wouldn't say I love her..." Freddie trailed off as Mel shot him a look. It could've been twenty years ago, except for the eyes. He smiled, deciding that Mel probably liked the truth, just like her mother. When it benefitted her, of course.<br>"There's no way to stop loving your mother. She's like a hurricane. She comes into your life and destroys everything, but you can't help getting swept up," Freddie said, looking past Mel at something only he could see.  
>"That's the nicest way I've ever heard her described," Mel replied, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, it's the nicest way I've ever described her. I used to hate Sam, you know," Freddie replied, grinning. The shock was slightly wearing off, although the fact that he had a fourteen year old daughter was one that was going to take some getting used to.<br>"Yeah, she mentioned that. Not entirely your fault, seeing as she provoked you constantly," Mel answered. Freddie glanced at her, a new question occurring. Maybe Sam had told her daughter all the why's Freddie had been dying to find out.  
>"Did she say anything else to you? About me, and other stuff," Freddie asked, trying not to seem too eager. Clearly he was failing miserable as Mel smirked at him.<br>"At first she avoided the topic of my dad, but a few months ago she started telling me everything. About you, and Carly. Do you still know Carly, by the way? Mom wanted me to meet her," Mel commented, just remembering her mother's best friend. Still her best friend, her mother had said so many times. She had never found another person like Carly.  
>"Yeah, yeah. I should probably take you to- Wait, where's Sam?" The question had just occurred to Freddie. Why had Sam left Mel here alone? Did she think Freddie was mad at her or something? Truth be told he was a little irritated. Fourteen years of no contact, and then she went and dropped this in his lap. At least she could've been there when he met Mel, instead of running away like a coward. But that was one thing Sam wasn't. She wouldn't run away, at least not voluntarily. So what the hell had happened?<br>"I-I don't know," Mel muttered, coughing and looking away. Freddie narrowed his eyes at the teenager.  
>"Aha! One respect in which you're not like Sam! You're a bad liar," Freddie pointed a finger at Mel, who shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like lying, it always complicated things.<br>"She made me promise not to tell, and that's all I'm gonna say," Mel said with determination, clamping her lips shut. With that she jumped up and looked around.  
>"You got any food? A place I can crash?" Mel asked, picking up a backpack Freddie had somehow missed before. He struggled to his feet, providing quite a show for a highly amused Mel.<br>"Wait, you mean you're staying here?" Freddie asked, rubbing his back with one hand.  
>"Or not. Whatever. I can find somewhere else to sleep," Mel's voice turned cold as she said this and she turned towards the door.<br>"No, wait! You can sleep here, and I've got some leftovers in the fridge," Freddie reach out to grab her shoulder and tug her back, "We'll talk tomorrow. I can take off work." Mel arched an eyebrow at this, but stayed silent. Freddie walked to the spare room- her room, really. He swung open the door and immediately started coughing. It was dusty. That was an understatement. Everything was covered in fourteen years worth of dust. He turned to see Mel staring into the room with a decidedly distasteful look on her face. "Ah, I suppose it's a little dirty," Freddie commented sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Mel simply rolled her eyes and turned away.  
>"I'll take the couch."<br>"Good, good. Let's go see of there's anything to eat," Freddie replied, desperately trying not to let the conversation lag. Mel didn't seem to care about that and she kept quiet, following Freddie into the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and stared at the cartons that occupied every square inch of space. Freddie rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. "I, uh, don't cook much," Freddie admitted. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to be acting right now. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he had a daughter and she was standing in his kitchen, sending him a scornful look so similar to her mothers he could swear Sam was in that kitchen with them. Mel reached into the fridge and grabbed a carton. She peered into it and saw some beef lo mein. "Okay, we're going shopping tomorrow and you're getting some real food," Mel said, replacing the carton with a vague look of disgust. She turned away and headed for the living room. Freddie trailed behind her, staring at her as she dumped her backpack on one side of the couch. She turned towards him and Freddie quickly reverted his gaze elsewhere.  
>"You do have a bathroom, right?" Mel asked, sarcasm coloring her tone. Freddie nodded mutely and led her through the kitchen once more to the bathroom. It was cramped and small, but there wasn't a lot of stuff. Some shaving cream and razors and toilet paper on the counter. It was all Freddie really needed since he never went on a date, which meant no need for cologne. Some deodorant and he was good to go to work every morning. Mel glanced around the room, her backpack on her shoulder. She then turned to Freddie, who was still standing in the doorway, and raised her eyebrows at him.<br>"Well, I'm gonna change now so..." Mel trailed off suggestively. Freddie jumped and blushed a bright red.  
>"Oh, right! Of course. I'll just, uh, wait out here then," Freddie said, rubbing the back of his head. He backed out and shut the door, with Mel staring at him the entire time. Freddie stared at the bathroom door for a long moment before turning away and heading to his room for some spare blankets. His mind was still buzzing with the fact that he had a daughter. A daughter with wild blonde hair and brown eyes. A daughter who was sarcastic, but bad at lying. A daughter he already knew he was going to love no matter what. She was a blend of him and Sam. A grin spread across Freddie's face and he started to hum, grabbing up an old blanket and dumping it on the couch. Then he went for the phone and called work.<br>"Hey, Jen, I'm not coming in tomorrow," Freddie told his coworker. He heard a gasp on the other end.  
>"Oh my! Did something happen? Are you all right?" Jen asked, clearly frightened. Freddie raised his eyebrows and frowned. Was he really that bad a workaholic?<br>"No, I'm just feeling a little under the weather, that's all. Just let everyone know," Freddie responded. He assured Jen a couple more times that he was fine, then bid her farewell and hung up the phone.  
>"So, who's Jen?" Mel's voice asked suggestively. Freddie turned to see her leaning against the kitchen doorframe, smirking at him. She was dressed in a baggy t-shirt and blue striped pajama pants. Just the kind of thing Sam would've worn.<br>"Ah, a coworker of mine," Freddie explained.  
>"Just a coworker?" Mel asked. She pushed herself off the door and started towards the couch. Freddie frowned in confusion at her.<br>"What else would she be?" Freddie replied, clearly not getting what Mel was clearly suggesting.  
>"I don't know. A future girlfriend? A future wife? You can't just be alone for the rest of your life. You're only thirty-five," Mel told him. She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around herself before falling onto the couch. Freddie spluttered behind her, searching for words.<br>"That's not- I mean. I could never..." Freddie trailed off as Mel yawned and looked up at him.  
>"Why not?" Mel said, then shut her eyes and laid her head down with such finality that Freddie knew there was no possibility of continuing the conversation until the morning. He stared for a moment longer, then grinned and shook his head. Freddie turned and headed towards the door to his room. He paused in the doorway and reached to turn off the living room light.<br>"Goodnight, Mel." 


End file.
